


My Dream Come True

by Lucky107



Series: Only You (And You Alone) [9]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Conditioning, Delirium, Gen, Graphic Description of Corpses, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 12:45:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14769897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky107/pseuds/Lucky107
Summary: Sunny dreamed of the Grand View Hotel most nights after her release.





	My Dream Come True

**Author's Note:**

> _You're my dream come true, my one and only you..._

Sunny dreamed of the Grand View Hotel most nights after her release.

She dreamed in shades of reds and oranges she had never thought to exist. She dreamed of that room and of listening to Jacob’s lecture, over and over again. It changed each night, small parts here and there, until her mind had warped it into something else entirely.

Her mind had warped _him_ into something else entirely.

In each dream she awoke in that chair, bound at the wrists, and her first instinct was to rip her arms free of their restraints with sheer willpower.

Jacob told her she could do it.

That’s how Sunny knows it was all only a dream.

There was always a gun on the table in front of her, but it took her a long time to accept that the only way to escape—the only way to wake up from this nightmare—was to _kill_ every other person trapped at the Grand View Hotel with her.

It was _hard_.

Everyone was wearing Whitetail green.

Repetition numbed her heart to what it was she had to do and, in no time all, Sunny found herself just wanting _out_. It all became a game in her mind: she ditched the gun early to cut out the reload time and ran the course with only her bare hands, learning to snap necks like twigs as she went.

And every time she dropped another shadowy figure and felt the cold heat of the smoke left behind, a small voice in the back of her mind _praised_ her for her efforts.

 _Jacob’s voice_.

He was so damn proud of what she was becoming in her dreams that Sunny found herself awakening from them at record speeds. She began subconsciously bending to that praise, _needing_ to be rewarded for the crimes she committed.

Just as the dream began to feel routine, however, she wound up in a cage and, during her time in captivity, the dream changed: once she escaped from the Grand View Hotel, she entered into a new section of the dream that felt unfamiliar and strange.

 _St. Francis Veterans Center_ , the sign read.

The minor details only filtered through over time, as the new dream became routine and the new quota of bodies once again became obtainable.

And once again she could hear Jacob’s praise, no matter how far away she was from him when she blacked out.

It’s been months since she last drifted off into a blissful slumber and even longer yet since she last knew the comfort of a proper bed. She’s been going for days on her feet at a time before she simply collapses from the exhaustion—and that’s always when it happens.

But tonight’s dream is different.

Sunny can’t even remember falling asleep.

The Grand View Hotel and the veterans center remain the same, but the faces appear a little more clear and each crunch as she snaps her victims’ necks sounds a little louder to her ears.

When she slings herself down the routine exit— _the body chute_ —she instead lands on her feet in a new section of the dream.

This time it’s cold and it’s blue and her skin crawls as she pushes onward through a concrete labyrinth. But there’s a sickening sense of familiarity to this section that causes bile to rise up in her throat.

She doesn’t have to rely on repetition to find her way.

She already _knows_.

It’s the last stretch that proves the easiest to master, even on the very first try: she catches each shadowy figure off-guard as they appear and drops them before they have a chance to detect her presence. It feels _wrong_ that killing comes this easy.

She clears four rooms completely undetected before she turns a corner and finds herself lost in darkness.

Sunny’s heart begins to race.

She registers one man in the room standing with his back to her and, slowly, he begins to turn around. _Fight or flight._ Her mind is clouded by the repetition, she tells herself, and she can see only one way forward.

It takes all of her weight to bring the man to the ground— _n-n-no, p-please!_ —before she snaps his neck with an audible crunch.

When it’s over, Sunny leans back on her heels and sighs, relieved.

But the dream doesn’t _end_.

In her confusion she glances down and the body of the man— _still warm_ —remains.

The glassy eyes staring back at her are Walker’s.

 

Sunny awakens from her dream with a start and propels herself backwards until she hits the bars of her cage.

The St. Francis Veterans Center.

Something catches in the left of her peripheral—

A wolf noisily chews on the limp hand of a body through the bars of the cage, but there are distinct bruises around the man’s neck that imply the wolf was not the one responsible for his death.

 _Walker_.

Sunny’s hands begin to shake.

“Seven days,” comes Jacob’s voice, bemused, as he leers at her through the bars. “Aw, you must be _hungry_.”

When her eye turns upon him and searches his face feverishly for answers, unable to accept what she already knows to be true, she’s met with a simple knowing smile.

It had _never_ been a dream.

It had all been _her_.

Only her.


End file.
